Pour me Another
by Sunny-D57
Summary: For a tumblr prompt. Zoro escorts a drunk Sanji back to his room after the celebration in Alabasta. Sanji's acting oddly snuggly. The next morning, sparks fly. ONESHOT. ZoSan.


**Disclaimer: Not my One Piece, otherwise ZoSan would be totally a canon thing. **

Anyways, a one-shot for a tumblr prompt. It's really just 5000 words, starts off fluffy, devolved into smut... :/

Let me know what you think~ First time writing smut. This was more of a break thing, since I needed to escape the YJ fandom and breathe a little. The actually more smutty version is on AO3. (that's like, 1200 added words of full out sex .)

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**Pour Me Another**

It wasn't the first time Zoro had seen the cook sloshed. Whiskey Peak had been a pretty good indicator. The man couldn't handle more than half a bottle of wine before he began to stumble. Pathetic really. But it didn't bother him. Everyone should get drunk once in a while.

However, it was the first time Zoro was trying to get nice and pissed that the damn cook had to get so drunk he was goddamn bothering everyone. Okay. No. He was just pissing Zoro off, but it was because the cook couldn't handle his fucking drinks that Zoro was put in this position.

"Take him to his room," said the witch, glaring down at him through her orange bangs.

"Why should I?" asked Zoro, irritated. He wasn't the drunk one. Why was he being punished?

"Because you're the only person who can carry him back," said Nami, acting posh and royal as always.

"And if I don't want to?" asked Zoro sarcastically.

"Then I'll make sure that any of the booze Vivi gives us as we leave is locked up and kept specifically away from you," said Nami seriously, eyes cool and direct as she met his, not an ounce of fear, and considering what a coward she usually was in a battle, he had to respect her for it, even if it came down to money, "I'll sell it all at the next port."

"You wouldn't," said Zoro, his hand moving to hover over Yubashiri as he glared at Nami. She merely smirked, taunting him.

Growling, Zoro capped his bottle of raki that the locals had provided, and grumbled as he moved over to the cook. He couldn't blame the guy for getting drunk. It was the perfect opportunity, being in Alabasta, having the freedom to drink after defeating a Shichibukai and his organization, restoring peace in a country, and helping Vivi out. Perfect time to celebrate. Unfortunately the cook had to cook for Luffy. Even though the Alabastans had offered, the cook had some kind of kitchen fetish and kept going to the kitchen to check on the food, to cook for the crew, and being the fussy bitch he was. Idiot.

Grumbling, Zoro glared down at the cook. His face was red from the amount he'd drank, and he grinned at Zoro, his eyes glazed over. Zoro glared furiously at the man, trying to wrap his head around the idiot's condition. His tie was undone, hanging limply around his neck, and his shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing milk white skin that despite being in one of the hottest, sunniest countries, lacked any tan. Idiot just burned, unlike Zoro whose own bronze skin had gone darker by two shades, almost a dusty brown instead of gold.

"Roooo!" said the shit-cook, grinning up at him, before shaking his head, "Why- Why- thersh two!"

"Fucking shit cook," said Zoro, hoisting the cook up by his collar, and wrapping an arm around his waist, which though lean, had a good amount of muscle that Zoro didn't feel about about squeezing.

"Owww," moaned the cook, "Shpinning."

"Idiot," said Zoro, "C'mon."

"Where we go-oing?" asked Sanji, wrapping both his arms on Zoro, who started to walk away, passing the dancing trio of idiots, the Alabastan choir, and headed out into the hallways of the palace, which were surprisingly quiet in comparison to the dining hall. The dimly lit lanterns hung every few feet, and Sanji was staring, as Zoro practically dragged the man through.

"Your hair ish green," he slurred, "Ish -hic- green."

Zoro didn't bother to answer, as he hoisted the cook up slightly from his waist, contemplating just slinging the man over his shoulder and carrying him out. It would probably go faster, and he had a third bottle of raki waiting for him at the feast.

"Ish soft!" said Sanji suddenly, and Zoro felt the man's hand climbing on his head. The perhaps appropriate reaction would have been to flinch and yell, but Sanji was so drunk, and Zoro wasn't ordinary, that he just ignored him. Instead, he focused on the fact that he was not drunk and that he had to get Sanji back to his room.

Wait a minute.

Where was his room? He stared at the hallways. None of them looked the slightest bit familiar. Shit. They'd moved the halls! He stared at the blonde, who was still obsessing over his soft head, now asking, "Hey marimoo -hic- Are all marimosh thish shoft?"

He was useless.

Zoro sighed, and turned back to the halls. The hallway leading to their room had stone walls. All the walls were made of stone. That was a stupid idea. He glanced out the window. The moon was towards the left. That's where the sun had been when they left the room. The moon and sun were opposites. Ergo the rooms were the other way.

He turned left, and continued to walk straight. The path he remembered taking from the rooms to the dining hall was a straight one. As they walked, Sanji started to giggle, and then he buried his nose into the crook of Zoro's neck. At this point, Zoro had no idea what Sanji was up to, but the dart-brow felt weird this snuggly in his arms. It was like the cook had forgotten that the two of them had boundaries.

Or at least, the cook did.

He cared deeply for his nakama, and Sanji was nakama. Who had boundaries. And now he was snuggling.

"Oi," said Zoro irritatedly, "Get off me."

"Warm," muttered Sanji, and snuggled closer.

"I'll cut you," came Zoro's lazy reply as he moved through the halls.

Crap. He'd gotten distracted in his thoughts, and now he didn't know where he was anymore. Shrugging his shoulders, Zoro continued to walk, until he reached a stair case. There were definitely no stairs leading to the room. He turned, and stared. Which way had he come from again?

"Which way is the room?" muttered Zoro, and Sanji grinned beside him and said loudly, "You -hic- alwaysh get losht! Eesh it caush the 'air ish sho dishtracting?"

"Shut up," said Zoro, steadily getting more annoyed, as the cook returned to running his hand through his hair.

His temper snapped. The damn cook was breaking a loot of boundaries right now, and contrary to his easy-going nature, Zoro was not good with change. He didn't like change. Or at least, he didn't like people doing things that he didn't understand. Angrily, he pinned the shitty dart-brow's hands up against the wall, glaring down at him, but making sure not to put too much pressure on the wrists. The cook treasured those things like they were his swords, and in a way Zoro understood. Losing a hand meant losing himself, and likewise, his hands were to be taken care of.

"Shpinning," muttered the cook, looked dizzy and he was still so damn pink-faced.

Through that blonde hair, he glanced up at Zoro, his hair somewhat ruffled now, as his usual gel style undid itself due to the heat. The cook had been complaining about the heat and his hair at every chance, even more than the witch had. He was such a girl.

The cook's eye was really blue. Zoro stared at it, a little surprised. It reminded him of an ocean, but he couldn't name what ocean he was thinking of. The East Blue waters were too light to be that blue. And the Grand-line's waters were always changing, too dark somedays, too green other days, and sometimes a hue of purple. There was no mistaking these eyes. They were just blue. No other color saturated that blue, and it was staring at him, or at least, trying to stare at him.

"Are you done?" asked Zoro impassively.

The cook hiccoughed, and shook his head sloppily in disagreement, and then grinned widely at Zoro. It was kind of cute, like a drunk child, as Zoro loosened his arms. The cook leaned into him, wrapping his arms around Zoro's neck, and loosely gripping on. A few seconds later, the paralysis occurring from being hugged by the shit-cook passed, to be replaced by shock. The shit cook was asleep. It was barely noticeable, but his breathing had evened, his eye had shut, and all his weight was on Zoro.

The cook was never allowed alcohol again.

Zoro hefted Sanji up over his shoulder, carrying the dumb blonde through the halls. It was twenty-minutes later, and with a kind passing maid's help, that Zoro found the rooms for the Straw-Hats. He didn't know which one was the shitty cook's, so he just opened a door and poked his head in.

Nope. Chopper's judging from the medical volumes and candy wrappers. Vivi was spoiling the kid.

The next room was Sanji's. The cook's knives were in their roll, neatly placed there. As Zoro moved past them, he stopped for a second to admire the care they were given. The blades were all sharpened, the steel stainless and tempered, to his amusement, with a swirly pattern look over the front.

He passed the knives, and headed to the bed, dumping the cook's body across the bed. To his surprise, the cook's legs were locked around his waist, and instead of being able to toss the cook and leave, he was dragged atop the limp, but still strong and apparently awake body below him. He didn't catch his weight, instead, he let himself land heavily on top of the drunk dart-brow, who groaned.

"Oof, shit-shit-tee -hic- bashtard," muttered the cook, groaning at Zoro's weight.

"Let go," said Zoro warningly, glaring down at the cook, who was staring at him with that flushed face of his.

"Don' wan'" muttered the cook, pouting like a child as he kept his legs firmly locked around Zoro's waist.

Zoro stared at the man, and exhaled heavily. He honestly didn't know to react to the cook acting like this. Sanji grinned, taking it as a sign of defeat (It wasn't) and wrapped his arms around Zoro, that nose once again digging into the crook of his neck. The cook reeked of the booze, cigarettes and something spicy. It wasn't all that bad actually. It was kind of intoxicating, even if the cigarettes weren't his favorite scent.

"You're going to be pissed if I'm still here in the morning," warned Zoro, as he let it go. The buzz in his system was gone from the stress the cook was putting him through, might as well just get some sleep and try again tomorrow.

"Warm," muttered the cook, and he could feel the man pouting against his skin, and Zoro forced himself to ignore that feeling. The cook, was after all, a ladies man, and also, very _very_ drunk.

"Yeah I get it," said Zoro with a sigh.

"Did- Did," the cook paused, lifting his head away, looking adorably lost and once again Zoro cut the thought off there as the cook stared at him, trying to remember his trail of thought, "If- If shomeone planted a flag -hic- on your head- would it be like- they dishcovered you? Caush it'sh like land hooooo!"

The hand was back in his head. Annoyed, Zoro took his hand and tugged on the cook's long, soft strands of hair, forcing the cook's neck to arch, revealing more milky skin and reminding him that the cook's shirt wasn't exactly buttoned up like usual. To his surprise, the cook groaned, and it was definitely not out of pain. Shit. The bastard liked having his hair pulled.

Zoro was probably never going to forget that fact.

Sanji kept staring at him, eyes wide and blown, as Zoro kept the man's head bent back, his glare serious on the man's eyes, as Sanji stared at him. There was a pause, and Zoro suddenly felt a chill go up his spine.

Then the cook's lips were on his, and he kept his pressed tightly together, letting go of the idiot's hair. This was not good. The cook used his hips to suddenly manoeuvre them sloppily so that Zoro was half to the side, and Sanji was half on top of him. If the curly-brow had been in his right mind, he may have been able to execute that move sexily and with actual strength. Be as it was, it was just very horny and Zoro was unimpressed.

Until the cook's knee came over his groin.

He started at that, and his lips involuntarily parted, letting the cook's tongue slither through. He tasted of booze and a dash of nicotine. He groaned. It wasn't that the cook was particularly impressive, he was too out of it to have any impressive technique, but it was the fact that it was the cook. The very heterosexual, very red and white cook, sneaking his tongue around in Zoro's mouth, and his hands running through the short strands of Zoro's hair that was causing a reaction.

"You're drunk ero-cook," said Zoro firmly, lifting the cook off of his mouth, and staring at the panting, red-faced figure above him, blonde hair framing that his face.

"I- I- not drun'!" said the cook suddenly, and Zoro stared, as he propped himself up and knocked the cook down, "Shtay!"

"Go to sleep shit-cook," said Zoro, glaring at him, "If you want to make-out in the morning, I'll be right here."

And with that, Zoro gave up on making sense of reality and let himself fall asleep. The cook was passed out before him. Idiot.

X-X-X-X-X

The following morning was pure hell for Sanji. His head throbbed when he woke up, and the light from the window was glaring into his eyes. He hissed, and pulled the blanket up over his eyes, burrowing into the figure beside him to avoid the sun. He ignored the part of his mind questioning the presence of someone else in his bed, and fell back asleep.

X-X-X-X-X

When Zoro woke up, he found himself still in bed with the shitty cook. He stared at the blonde figure. Sometime between the night and the morning, the cook had moved to bury himself into Zoro's chest, and Zoro found the cook's lips were brushing against his t-shirt covered nipple. Cutting the thought off.

He shifted, and immediately the cook's eyes flew open, grunting as he blinked, staring at Zoro for a moment, and then groaning as he covered his ears as Zoro tried to explain. Zoro blinked, and then grinned. The cook was too hungover to care.

"Do you remember anything from last night?" asked Zoro, quieter this time, and curiously as Sanji glared at him, with those pink lips curved into a childish pout. He was as bad as the rest of the kids.

"Er- I-

Then the cook's eyes went wide, and he turned bright red. Shit. He remembered. Zoro gace a smirk, mocking the cook as he sat up, the cook still flapping about helplessly and silently.

"I guess that's my cue to leave," said Zoro with a shrug.

"Wait!" said the cook, voice hoarser than usual, and with a bit of desperation in it.

"What?" asked Zoro, annoyed.

"I- We- Did we- I can't remember," said the cook helplessly.

Oh. He only remembered parts of the night. Enough to suspect things. Zoro gave him a raised eyebrow as he asked, "Do you feel sore?"

"What?" asked the cook, looking annoyed as he sat up, wincing at the light and turning his head to Zoro, who got off the bed and grabbed the curly-brow a bottle of water and thrust it into the man's hand. The cook gratefully downed it before asking, "Why would I feel- sore?"

Zoro raised an eyebrow, wondering if the cook was really that stupid for a man raised on a boat of pirates. Then the cook's eyes suddenly widened. Right on the mark. He spluttered, red-face and glowering as he yelled out, "Why am I- You could be sore!"

Zoro glowered. The allegation that he'd be the one taking it from the _shit-cook_, combined with the fact that he hadn't been able to enjoy the buzz of alcohol last night or get more of the raki stuff the Alabastans served caused him to push the cook backwards onto the bed, climbing on top with a predatory smirk.

He leaned his head over beside the shit-cook's ear, making sure to whisper very quietly, and with a dark tone he saved for his enemies, "Do you really think_ I'd_ be sore?"

Below him, Sanji stiffened for a moment, but otherwise, he didn't react. That was why he enjoyed bantering with the cook. He could take it. Better than most. No words with the cook were wasted. When the cook didn't respond, Zoro put his hand through Sanji's hair, tugging it backwards and getting a sharp gasp from the cook, though he knew now it was nothing to do with pain, especially as he took the cook's ear between his teeth. Not much of a reaction.

He moved his lips below the cook's ear, only to get another gasp. He grinned to himself, planting his lips there and suckling, the cook still stiff and grappling with the hang-over and Zoro's words. It was sort of fun having an edge over the cook like this. But a little boring.

And on cue, the ero-cook responded, thrusting his hips up into Zoro's, causing the swordsman to let out a hiss, and let go of the skin below the love of Sanji's ear, where a now darkening red bruise was forming. Oops.

"What fucking happened, shitty swordsman?" asked the cook, his hands coming up to grip Zoro's shirt, his leg sliding between Zoro's to press his knee threateningly against his groin, but in the position they were in, combined with the pink blush of the cook's face, and all the strange thoughts from last night, all it served to do was add to the eroticism.

"Are you sober?" asked Zoro, and the cook stared at him in surprise, trying to make sense of the question before scowling and saying, "I'm not like you! I don't live in perpetual booze-world!"

"Then remember this _ero_-cook," said Zoro with a dangerous gleam in his eye, "Everything that we did yesterday, was all on_ your _request."

Sanji's eyes widened at the explanation, before Zoro found himself suddenly tossed on his back, the shit-cook on top and glowering as he glared at Zoro, the top three buttons of his shirt undone and revealing his chest, which was even whiter than his hands and neck, if that was possible.

"What did you do?" asked the cook, glowering at Zoro, who was enjoying the tease too much and said, "Don't worry, I won't tell Vivi-chan that you like having your hair pulled."

Sanji gaped. Then his eyes narrowed as he tugged on Zoro's hair. The swordsman glared at him impassively. Dumbass. Did he really think that Zoro had the same kinks as him? For a pervert, he was failing spectacularly.

"I- You- Don't-

"But I might tell Nami," continued Zoro, "That sea-witch would get a kick of it."

"You don't get to tell Nami-san anything!"

To accentuate the remark, the cook squeezed his legs across Zoro's thighs, painfully tight, but with just enough flex to leave Zoro some room to breathe and so that the most it did was sting. As he did that, the cook forced his hips to roll over Zoro's groin, and Zoro felt his dick hardening at the action.

So, apparently, did the cook, whose eyes widened and he hatefully hissed, "You- You're getting turned on by this?!"

"I'm not turned off by it," said Zoro easily, ignoring the outraged flustered panic the cook was spouting about.

"I'm not gay!" said the cook firmly.

"I don't care if it's a man or a woman or a shitty perverted ero-cook," said Zoro, tossing the ball back at the cook.

"Fuck you," said the cook hatefully, before surprising Zoro by pressing his lips firmly onto Zoro's, biting at the lower lip and causing Zoro to groan at the action. The cook took advantage and prodded Zoro's tongue with his own, drawing it out and causing Zoro to murmur at that.

He was a much better kisser by day.

X-X-X-X-X

"Shit," groaned Zoro, tossing the blanket over the cook's head.

"What- What the fuck?!" yelled the cook, "What the hell was-

"Don't you dare take that off," growled Zoro, "Or I'll end up rethinking my decision about fucking you dry."

The cook was silent after that. Zoro flumped backwards on the bed. The cook came beside him, still covered by the bed sheet.

"Next time," said Zoro with a grimace, "You're not allowed to drink. I'm the one who gets drunk at the port, got it?"

"Fine," agreed the cook, sounding tired, and Zoro then guiltily remembered the cook was probably still feeling the effects of the hangover. Whatever, if the cook could give a blow-job like that, he was fine.

"But," added the cook, "I get to be the one who gets to take advantage of the situation."

"You threw yourself on me," said Zoro with a snort, "So I get to be in charge."

"You set it up!" argued the cook, "With your- your-

"Just fucking shut up and go to sleep," said Zoro, shutting his eyes.

To his displeasure, the cook got out of the bed and began to move around, grumbling to himself. Zoro heard the words shower, Nami and food but he ignored it in favour of sleep. However, he was still awake enough to hear, "Next time we do it your way shitty swordsman."


End file.
